The Lion’s Mail Order Menage

Some days when he drank he got angry, riled up so that it was almost impossible to get him calmed down and somewhere close to the planet earth again.  But other times, times like this one when he was in a good mood that just kept on getting better, he could be the most fun and charismatic man anyone had ever met.  Meena could see why he had so many women infatuated with him (and she found it kind of hilarious how oblivious to that he was).  He was an easy personality to get taken in by. 

He was like the sun, either giving or taking away the light of the day.  Like now.  Standing in front of the record player and rocking out to music that wasn’t even playing yet, pointedly ignoring Caleb’s impatient sighs.  The two of them tended to differ in their opinions on what kind of music was best to “set the mood” (Tyler’s words, neither Meena nor Caleb would ever have said that) and whichever one wasn’t the one in control of the evening’s soundtrack had a hard time playing nice.  In short, they sulked when they didn’t get their way.

“What are you smirking about over there little lady?  Don’t think I don’t see that expression on your face.”

“Nothing,” she said as she tried and failed to hold back a laugh, “really.”

“I call bullsh*t,” Tyler turned, ganging up on her with Caleb for the sake of gaining information, “your face is giving you away, babe.  What gives?  What’s got you giggling?”

“Honestly, it’s nothing.  It’s just watching the two of you.  You might as well be blood brothers, the way you bicker.  Neither one of you can stand giving in an inch, can you?”

“Just like bratty little children,” Tyler laughed, “you’ve got us pegged exactly.”

“Just pick the music, Tyler, before I do it for you.”

Tyler gave him an exaggerated military style salute followed by the finger and turned back to the old record player that Meena knew from one of Caleb’s stories had been the only thing his father had ever given him that meant a thing. 

He loved that record player, which was why he got nervous when Tyler messed with it.  But Meena was the only one who knew that and she didn’t think Caleb was likely to enlighten anyone else, and so he just sat there watching with his jaw clenching and unclenching while Tyler played around.  There was nothing Meena could do to change the situation with the record player, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do anything at all. 

She just had to do something to take his mind off it, that was all.  She took a long, slow sip of her drink, shivering at the warmth of the vodka trickling down her throat and feeling an anticipatory tingle spread throughout her limbs.  She scooted closer to Caleb, one little piece of an inch at a time, until she couldn’t tell whether the warmth between them was coming from her body or from his. 

She found his hand, which was exactly where he had put it as soon as she sat next to him and was now almost directly beneath her upper thigh.  She took her pinky finger and ran it lightly along the side of his hand, over his knuckles, along the top of his forearm.  She did it so lightly that she was almost not touching him at all and she could feel all of the little hairs on his arm stand up and take notice. 

“Hey there,” he whispered so quietly that Meena doubted Tyler took notice, “fancy meeting you here.”

“Hey there yourself.”

“Whatcha doing there?”

“Nothing,” she said with that false innocence she knew drove him totally crazy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?  You’re being a tease, that’s what you’re doing.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” His breath was becoming slightly ragged, speeding up as the pressure of his hand on his body increased. “I hope you never stop.”

“What about this?”

It was like playing chicken.